I crouch by the bike and look over the damage. The rack is bent down at an alarming angle. The seat is jammed shut - due to the rack pressing the latch forward. The mirrors are swinging loose and one's missing. Pretty much every nut is loose including the swinging arm pivot bolt. The right indicator lens is broken and taped back on. The chain is coated in thick dusty sand. The rear tyre pressure is low. A chain guard bolt's missing. The tail light is loose, the windscreen is out of position and of course the front spindle bolt is loose again.
I set to work. There's nothing major but it takes time and I'm impatient to be moving on.
I start to pack and find that the pannier straps are also broken. Ten minutes later they are fixed with cable ties and I'm ready to set off.
I set to work. There's nothing major but it takes time and I'm impatient to be moving on.
I start to pack and find that the pannier straps are also broken. Ten minutes later they are fixed with cable ties and I'm ready to set off.
I vow to avoid the dirt tracks today; I need a bit of recovery time but it's not long before the tarmac road I'm on suddenly changes into dust. I've no choice but to go on. I take it very slowly, rising from the saddle for even the smallest dips. The bike needs a break too.
I wave to drivers of horse drawn carts as I ride slowly past. They always wave back. The horses - sometimes donkeys, are always thin and weary looking. Often too, so are the people with them.
Satty takes me into town but of course the main through road is closed. I divert through the jumbled backstreets, the hidden alleys with laundry hanging and dogs sleeping in the shade.
I leave town and once more I find myself in a wide gravel road. This one is fairly flat so I open the throttle to cool down in the breeze.
I pass carefully over a decaying bridge. The concrete is crumbling and parts of the road are falling away into the river below. The road starts to climb. The temperature drops and as I get higher, mists start filling the view. Visibility drops to just a few metres and I need to wipe the visor to see the hairpin bends of the climb up through the sparse pine forest. The warm, moist air rising from the sea, whistles up the mountain and flows over the road ahead like steam from a kettle. I zip up my jacket. It's cold. I sense great drops of to my right but the views are not to be seen in the thick fog.
I wave to drivers of horse drawn carts as I ride slowly past. They always wave back. The horses - sometimes donkeys, are always thin and weary looking. Often too, so are the people with them.
Satty takes me into town but of course the main through road is closed. I divert through the jumbled backstreets, the hidden alleys with laundry hanging and dogs sleeping in the shade.
I leave town and once more I find myself in a wide gravel road. This one is fairly flat so I open the throttle to cool down in the breeze.
I pass carefully over a decaying bridge. The concrete is crumbling and parts of the road are falling away into the river below. The road starts to climb. The temperature drops and as I get higher, mists start filling the view. Visibility drops to just a few metres and I need to wipe the visor to see the hairpin bends of the climb up through the sparse pine forest. The warm, moist air rising from the sea, whistles up the mountain and flows over the road ahead like steam from a kettle. I zip up my jacket. It's cold. I sense great drops of to my right but the views are not to be seen in the thick fog.
After an hour up here in the chill, I'm glad to slowly make my way down towards the coast. It's still hazy but it's warm.
I turn in to the beachside campsite near Himare and switch off. There are quite a few tents here already. I pitch quickly and head for the showers.
I find the one little restaurant close by and am given the menu options.
"You want big fish or little fish?" His hands move apart to demonstrate the difference. I have 'little fish' which comes with chunks of bread and a salad.
I find the one little restaurant close by and am given the menu options.
"You want big fish or little fish?" His hands move apart to demonstrate the difference. I have 'little fish' which comes with chunks of bread and a salad.
Back in the tent, things are getting busy outside. The other campers are set for a night of drinking and singing. Someone has brought a guitar.
The wooden bench is close to my tent and some sound too close to the bike. I pick out odd words in strong Czech accents.
"Honda." "Supereconomy."
They're just interested. Nothing to worry about.
I put in my earplugs and turn over in my sleeping bag. I need rest ready to move on tomorrow. Always moving on.
The wooden bench is close to my tent and some sound too close to the bike. I pick out odd words in strong Czech accents.
"Honda." "Supereconomy."
They're just interested. Nothing to worry about.
I put in my earplugs and turn over in my sleeping bag. I need rest ready to move on tomorrow. Always moving on.
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